


Because I’m Broken When I’m Lonesome

by tumble4rpdr



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Broken, M/M, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23112349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumble4rpdr/pseuds/tumble4rpdr
Summary: “Brock wondered how he could be suffocated by nothingness. He had convinced himself that the emptiness in his chest where his heart once was would allow more air to fill his lungs, but instead he just felt like he was drowning. He’d known cravings before, the tingle in his fingers when it was time for another cigarette, the sudden inescapable dryness of his throat when his body needed a drink to calm his nerves. Though never in his life had he experienced anything like this.”
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Because I’m Broken When I’m Lonesome

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first song fic and it’s based off of a song I loved as a teenager that I started listening to again, Broken by Seether featuring Amy Lee. This turned out slightly more angsty at parts than I anticipated and I think I used more metaphors/imagery in this fic than I ever had. As always I want to thank everyone who reads this and those of you that choose to comment and I hope you all enjoy🖤

_I wanted you to know_

_That I love the way you laugh_

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away_

As quickly as the grin had appeared on Brock’s face upon watching another one of Vanjie’s stories, it was gone just as fast once the video ended. Jose and his energy and his essence were like pulling back curtains and opening windows, letting sunlight and a calming breeze into a once dark and dreary room. Brock had always cherished the spark that accompanied Jose in everything he did and lately he found himself longing for it more and more. He began to hope that maybe the glow that seemed to surround Jose would somehow find its way to him and help him find his own shine again.

Brock rewatched Vanjie’s latest Vegas stories once again, his lips chasing the comfort of the pleasant grin that seemed to only form once his finger hit play and a man too boisterous to be an angel but too selfless to be a devil showed up on his screen. He listened even more intently to Jose’s laugh, desperately trying to hold onto the sound before his mind let it go like a balloon released into the clouds. Brock began to remember when he was the one to make Jose laugh, how one silly comment could make his eyes sparkle and his smile beam with childlike exuberance, in turn filling Brock’s chest with delight.

Brock knew that he would do anything to stop Jose from hurting and preserve the warmth and wonder and joy that were truly his favorite parts of the man. That was what Brock had thought he was doing when he and Jose had broken up, as he refused to let his lackings continue to cause the man he loved pain.

_I keep your photograph_

_And I know it serves me well_

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain_

It was times like these when Brock was drawn back to the pictures of him and Jose that he never erased from his phone. When he was feeling slightly optimistic, he liked to imagine that despite deleting their pictures from Instagram, Jose, like him, had chosen to keep some kind of proof of their relationship and what they had meant to one another. The album, named by only two orange hearts that signified so much, was filled with moments of tenderness and contentment. The photos acted like Brock’s own time machine, pulling him back to times when he had truly surrendered to his feelings and allowed his heart to be warmed by the blanket of Jose’s affection.

Though depending on how deeply Brock longed and how bitterly he hurt, the images could also be tainted by the burdens of failure and regret, like mud staining a pristine wedding dress. Brock would sometimes swipe through the album and see a stranger’s face grinning back at him, a nearly unrecognizable version of himself paired with a boyfriend he didn’t deserve and obviously couldn’t keep, regardless of how much he wanted to.

This time, however, as his tired eyes gazed at the pictures, Brock realized that many of them were not from their relationship at all; rather from after when they had swore they would stay in each other’s lives but agreed to only be friends. He noted how they held each other just as much and how their smiles were just as bright as always. Brock began to reason that maybe the hurt they had felt hadn’t come from shortcomings or wanting different things. Rather it came from both of them having the same genuine desire, wanting to simply be with the person they loved and having to endure the ache of missing what would finally make them complete.

_Because I'm broken when I'm lonesome_

_And I don't feel right when you're gone away_

Brock wondered how he could be suffocated by nothingness. He had convinced himself that the emptiness in his chest where his heart once was would allow more air to fill his lungs, but instead he just felt like he was drowning. He’d known cravings before, the tingle in his fingers when it was time for another cigarette, the sudden inescapable dryness of his throat when his body needed a drink to calm his nerves. Though never in his life had he experienced anything like this.

He felt his mind scratching at the walls of his skull, trying to escape his sentimental memories while begging for him to act and once again make them reality. He felt both lost and found all at once, as though he was playing hide-and-seek by himself. It was as if his veins were telephone wires, their current shocking his insides at any unplanned moment. Brock would see his hands grasping the air, hungry for a touch that he thought would keep him full forever but now without it left him starving.

Brock pulled Apollo into his lap and gently dug his fingers into the cat’s warm fur, hoping that petting another creature he loved would help ease his fluttering thoughts. As Apollo reluctantly cuddled further into his caresses, Brock was reminded of when he first adopted the cat. When Brock’s heart felt as empty as his yet to be furnished apartment, when he somehow felt homeless even while sitting in what was supposed to be his new home. Apollo’s company had helped at the time, and Henry’s sometime later, but now their presence wasn’t enough. Not when he now knew what it felt like to be whole, what it felt like to find his home in a lover’s welcoming embrace.

Apollo leapt from his grasp as Brock sat up and reached for his phone. His pulse boomed like thunder as a storm continued to rain down inside his head. He scrolled through his contacts until he reached the one he was looking for, the one he was drawn to, the man who was like his umbrella and would undoubtedly shield him from this never ending downpour: **Jose** 🧡🕵🏼♂️👀

_The worst is over now_

_And we can breathe again_

_I wanna hold you high and steal my pain away_

Brock’s finger hovered over the name, anxiety bubbling in his chest like champagne bubbles fizzing beneath a cork ready to burst. He tried reasoning with himself that he shouldn’t feel awkward contacting Jose. Aside from maybe some family and close friends, Brock trusted Jose more than anyone. Jose had seen Brock for all that he is, gladly taking pliers to the locks around Brock’s heart instead of waiting around for a key.

They made it through Drag Race and the unfortunate necessity of their breakup. They made it through fan scrutiny and balancing the miserable pleasure of reliving all that they once were. Together they have overcome everything that was put before them and still remained in each other’s lives, even if it was much less than before. Brock knew that while there were many things that could cause him to panic, he never had to fear Jose, his spirit too supportive and kind to ever want to cause him distress.

Brock thought back to all the times they reached for each other, even after their breakup. Just the sound of Jose’s voice like a crackling fire after coming in from the snow. His body like the apple in the Garden of Eden, a forbidden indulgence too alluring for Brock to resist. Brock found himself still captivated by Jose’s bright smile, that was undiminished even when viewed on a phone screen. He was still charmed by the briefest of texts that Jose sent him when something reminded him of Brock or he just wanted to check in. Brock would catch himself unconsciously imagining Jose’s touch, the mere thought of his presence making his worry and pain dissolve like a sugar cube placed in a glass of water. It was with these memories filling his head that Brock finally tapped Jose’s name and held the phone up to his ear.

_There's so much left to learn_

_And no one left to fight_

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain_

What little uncertainty Brock had felt vanished once Jose answered his call with his familiar gravelly enthusiasm that Brock adored. Though he had been keeping up on the Vegas residency through social media, Brock delighted in hearing it all retold from Jose’s truly incomparable point of view. Jose spoke with an openness and eagerness that surprised Brock, as if Jose had been storing all of his thoughts away waiting for Brock to reach out.

After silly anecdotes about rehearsals and earnest moments of pride and appreciation, Jose’s voice grew smooth and low, a tone of voice he only fell into in private or when talking about something serious.

“Been thinking ‘bout getting me a kitty,” Jose softly told him as Brock released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He heard the underlying playfulness in Jose’s voice and couldn’t help but let out a giggle which Jose joyfully returned.

“I was meaning to holler at you, get your two cents since I know you know a thing or two ‘bout them pussies,” Jose continued, his tone still filled with laughter and Brock couldn’t help but smile.

“What brought on this sudden desire for a pet,” Brock asked him curiously. “I thought you’d be busy with the show or going out with the girls.”

“Yeah, we turn it up at the clubs and shit but,” Jose suddenly got shy again. “Outside a that it’s pretty much just me, myself, and I. A bitch gets lonely,” he admitted solemnly. “And I know you know a thing or two ‘bout that too.”

Brock knew loneliness more than he’d care to admit, knew the ache and discomfort that, like a tomb, encased his body in darkness and yearning. He couldn’t imagine, didn’t want to imagine Jose, his Jose, ever feeling anything less than loved and included. Brock knew the tight, nearly inescapable bonds of feeling disconnected and on your own, and he would do whatever possible to free Jose from those thoughts. He was done warring with himself over how he felt and how much he cared about Jose. Loving Jose came as naturally to Brock as breathing and trying to stop it felt like a tight grasp around his throat.

_'Cause I'm broken when I'm open_

_And I don't feel like I am strong enough_

_Because I'm broken when I'm lonesome_

_And I don't feel right when you're gone away_

Brock normally felt like a tipped over vase, a mess of jagged and broken fragments. Jose had found a way to glue his shattered pieces together, well enough so that water would no longer seep out and flowers had the chance to bloom. Jose had seen Brock’s restlessness and panic and doubt and unintentional coldness and took it all in stride, longing to dig deeper and uncover as much as he could about the man he felt so much for. Brock’s natural impulse was to put his guard up, to seal himself off from what he couldn’t control and strive to only display the best parts of himself. Jose easily scaled the high fences he kept himself enclosed in and did whatever he could to help let the real Brock out.

Their conversation continued, though now balanced along the edge of caution and expectation. In a sudden lull, Brock found himself overcome by Jose and all the possibilities his feelings could hold.

“I need to look at you,” Brock blurted out with a hint of desperation. “Please,” he added softly.

At that Jose ended their call. Brock was about to berate himself for practically begging to see his ex when his phone sounded with an incoming FaceTime call.

Brock quickly answered and was met with Jose’s tender gaze and bashful smirk, feeling as though constellations of brilliant stars were finally visible, illuminating a pitch black sky.

“It’s good to see you toes,” Jose said, his voice laced with a quiet sincerity that Brock hadn’t heard since their early “I love yous.”

“You too big guy,” Brock replied looking back at Jose, their eyes meeting in shared understanding. “Maybe I could come out to Vegas,” Brock offered. “Help you and the cat get settled,” he added in case he was misreading the signs.

“That could work,” Jose answered. “But I think I’d like it better if I got to see you sooner. Lately shit’s just been feeling off, and something’s telling me it cause you ain’t around.”

“Then I’ll be around,” Brock swore earnestly as Jose’s eyes teared up with relief. “And we’ll figure this out together, I promise.”


End file.
